PHOENIX
PHOENIX
WHEN HETTY WENT TO FEED the crows the next morning, she found Penelope already in the garden, digging a hole and muttering angry words.
So engrossed was she that Hetty was able to get right behind her friend without being noticed.
“Good morning,” Hetty said rather loudly.
Penelope sprang to her feet, dirt flying everywhere as she spun around, and she waved the tiny shovel in her hand at Hetty.
“Don’t scare me like that!”
Amused, Hetty merely replied, “That’s what you get! I didn’t give you a key so you could sneak in.”
“I didn’t!” Penelope dropped the clumps of grass in her hand back to the ground. “Benjy let me in. We crossed paths when he went to get a newspaper.”
As if to prove the truth of this statement, Benjy passed by with his tool bag as he crossed the yard to enter the shack. He nodded at Hetty, but said nothing as he disappeared inside.
Hetty sat down on the bench as Penelope knelt back on the ground.
“Why were you up so early, then?” Hetty asked.
“Dinner with my cousins went terribly last night. My aunt asked me to move in. She heard about how Darlene plans to move and says I should live with her family.”
Hetty glanced at the new hole in the garden. “And you don’t want that?”
“I never did, and I don’t want it now, since it’ll be because they’re fretting about Rosie.”
“I thought she was better?”
“She is, but the worry remains that she’ll get sick again. Not to mention they’re pulling out the old argument that it’s silly for me to live on my own when I’m not managing a household.”
“That’s just silly. Tending to all your plants is so much work.”
“I know, but no one believes me.” Penelope sighed. “But I might have to consider it. I can’t afford rent in most places, and the ones I can won’t be good for my plants.”
“There’s an easy solution. Stay here. There’s a bedroom, and you can stay as long as you need. You’ll just have to take your turn cooking every so often.”
Penelope’s smile was guarded. “I’ll think about it.”
“What is there to think about?” Hetty laughed. “You’re here all the time!”
Penelope did not share in Hetty’s laughter. “It’s too far from the herbal shop. Speaking of which, I should head out there now—”
“Wait!” Hetty cried. “There’s something I need to show you. Follow me.”
Hetty hadn’t been back in the room since she’d run out of it. The crate and its contents were left where she had dropped them, scattered in a few places.
“This came yesterday,” Hetty said as she picked up Esther’s book. “It’s from my sister. She put it aside for me when she got sick, with instructions for her friend to send it. Apparently this friend just had a chance to send it here. They were out of the country for business, and I’m not sure—”
Hetty’s rambling came to a stop as Penelope crouched down next to the box, her face quite sad.
“You opened this by yourself?”
Hetty turned back to the box. “I wanted to see what was inside. There’s so much tucked away in here.”
“Her whole life, or the one she wanted to share with you.” Penelope held up one of the vials.
“Everything in the box is something she wanted me to have. Although, I’m not sure how to best use all these herbs. But you might.”
The vial slipped in Penelope’s hand. “Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re an expert in all this! You know what to do with all this stuff, and could use it easier than Benjy or I could. And look.”
Hetty pulled out the book, flipping through it so Penelope could see the notes and drawings. “This is brimming with knowledge, so much you can start your own shop with it. Don’t argue with me—just take it.”
Penelope backed away. “I can’t. It’s the only one.”
“Then I’ll make a copy. Darlene can draw the pictures and I can type it up on a typewriter. I want you to take this. I want you to have all of this. You’re just like my sister, after all. Take the book and make magic with it.”
Hetty held it out once again, but Penelope shut her eyes. “Why do you always do this? You get bad news about your sister and you turn to me? I can’t replace your sister. We’re entirely different people.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
Penelope took a deep breath, and she exhaled so strongly that some of the dust in the room stirred. “Sometimes I don’t think you do. I have to go to work now. I’ll come around later.”
Without waiting for Hetty’s reply, Penelope left the room.
Hetty didn’t follow.
She lay down on the floor with Esther’s book clasped to her chest. She turned over the conversation in her mind to see exactly where she went wrong. Although given the pinched lines of pain in Penelope’s face, the problem went further than that.
It wasn’t long before she heard Benjy’s footsteps in the hallway. The door was already open, so she saw him when he appeared, illuminated by the light. While he could have told her to get off the dusty floor, he just lay next to her, shoulder to shoulder, staring up with her at the invisible cracks in the ceiling.
He smelled of soot, fire, and sweat. Hetty lay there breathing in the familiar scent as she dabbed the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.
“You should have asked her about the stolen potions,” Benjy said after a while.
“She would have told me if it was trouble.”
“Like Thomas did? Our friends have gotten into the bad habit of only telling us things that are dire. They think they’re being kind, but it’s just trouble that crops up far worse than it started.”
“Then you talk to Penelope about the missing potions, if you care so much about it!”
“Hetty,” Benjy gently chided, “you should know by now that never ends well.”
Hetty couldn’t help it, she snorted, barely suppressing a laugh. Without a moderator Benjy and Penelope’s conversations about brewed magic tended to shift to experiments, even if they didn’t start that way.
“What do you think about her staying?”
“I’m hardly surprised, as she’s taken over the yard for her garden.”
Benjy got to his feet then, and held out his hand to Hetty. She took it, allowing herself to be pulled up.
“What shall we do now?” Benjy asked. “According to the map in the study there are few things we can look into. I wouldn’t call it a case . . .”
“The tunnels are a case.” Hetty dropped Esther’s book back into the crate. “Strange fires were around both. Plus with Wise Sammy and the stolen magic it’s clear something is going on.”
“I’m more interested in the fraudulent spellbook,” Benjy admitted. “We have more leads there.”
“We’re likely to hear more about it too,” Hetty agreed. “If it’s as bad as Evie says. Let’s look into the spellbook, then. If I’m lucky I might even get to stab someone with a hairpin.”
That simple plan fell apart even before they got a chance to lock up the house.
Coming up the street, somber as a slowly approaching storm, was Jay.
This was not a social visit.
The sadness in his eyes said it. As well as the regrets that weighed down his shoulders.
“What happened?” Hetty whispered, bracing herself for the worst.
“Something terrible.” The pause Jay left after those words only increased Hetty’s fears. “Valentine Duval died last night.”